House of Mirrors
by Lori von Loco
Summary: When his ghostly associates fail to capture the notorious Danny Phantom, Walker realizes that what he needs is a little help from a human, instead.


**House of Mirrors**

**A/N:** Requested by vampygurl402. If not for them, I never would've thought about writing for this pairing. Glad I got to! Sorry it took such a long time, though. My passion for this fandom was derailed by something else.

Also, as a side note, I've always wanted to write something Sam/Tucker but never had the chance, so I sort of crammed it into this, lol. It's only a fleeting moment.

* * *

><p>These days, if he felt anything at all, it was frustration: burning, frothing, and rapidly mounting. What an ugly emotion it was, he thought. He was used to anger, but this? This was a nightmare.<p>

Walker had sent every goon he had at his disposal after that half-ghost brat, and they'd come up empty-handed every single time. As his irritation grew, he began to consider going after Phantom himself. But he was a warden, not a dog catcher, and sending other ghosts out to do his dirty work was the only way of catching a criminal that he saw fit.

This, however, had become something of a struggle.

Before him now was Desiree, floating with arms crossed and a scowl carved on her face. Her method of attaining the ghost boy had obviously ended in failure, just as all the other attempts had. She didn't even need to say it. Walker already knew.

He waved her off, just as he'd waved off Ember, and Johnny 13, Technus, Spectra, and even Skulker. _So many chances to get that ghost boy's head… So many opportunities wasted by these ghoulish imbeciles…_

Walker clenched his right hand and breathed hard through his nose. His frustration bubbled up, working its way through his system until a thought struck him, effectively draining the acidic taste of failure from his mouth. His face resumed a neutral expression almost immediately. "Of course," he drawled, breaking off into a single laugh. "If a ghost can't do it, I'll bet a human _can_."

* * *

><p>His concept of time was flawed, but he imagined that it had taken him quite a while to track down the man he sought. He touched down in dusty old Amity Park Penitentiary in the middle of the night, and wasted no time taking out the one guard on duty. A quick blow to the head worked wonders on humans. He'd intended to use more finesse, but with patience running as thin as his, he had to grab the bull by the horns while he still had the bull.<p>

He drifted down the hall, glancing inside each confined cube until a horrid-sounding giggle arose from one directly to his left. "Took you long enough, hmm?" a voice asked from within the pitch black void of its cell. "I hear your little game of fetch isn't doing so well."

Walker's eyes narrowed. "How did you know about that?"

"I have my ways… So, would you be a doll and let me out?"

"On one condition."

"Oh, yes, _yes_." His affirmations were given in a sing-song voice. Beside the cell from which the disembodied voice spoke, someone banged on the wall and issued a colorful demand for him to shut up.

"Fulfill your end of the bargain, or you're my next prisoner," Walker said evenly, facing the cell and watching as its inhabitant stepped forward. White-gloved hands curled around the bars, and a pale face came into view.

"Your ghostly prison wouldn't work on me, you know."

"Listen, Freakshow." The ghost warden stooped to the human's eye level. "If you don't do exactly as I say, I can find you and drag your pathetic body back to this jail. If you're lucky, I may even leave it in one piece."

Freakshow's thin mouth split into a grin. "All right, darling. Get me out of here, and I'll bring you your precious trophy boy."

Without hesitation, Walker phased an arm through the bars and grabbed his new accomplice's wrist. Freakshow allowed the ghost to lift him through the ceiling, leaving the establishment with a string of curses and screeched laughter. His eyes glinted maniacally.

No human should have eyes that red.

Walker surmised that this one was terribly out of his mind, in which case he was absolutely perfect for the job.

* * *

><p>"Listen, Danny," Sam begun, her tone already reaching into "matter-of-fact" territory less than three words into her sentence, "I'm telling you, carnivals never come this early in the year. This <em>has <em>to be fake."

"Yeah, like, a scam or something," Tucker agreed wholeheartedly.

Danny rolled his eyes. "You're only agreeing with her 'cause you're her boyfriend, dude."

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yuh-huh."

"Guys, guys." Sam held up her hands as a mediating motion. "It doesn't matter whether you believe me or not, because I'm still right. It's only the beginning of October, and this thing never comes until late in the month. If you go to this supposed carnival, you'll probably just find a bunch of weirdos and their made-up rally."

"She knows what she's talking about," Tucker added with a dorky smile aimed in the girl's direction.

Danny fake gagged. "Yeah, well, spending a couple hours with those guys sounds better than getting dragged to movie night with you two."

"I take offense to that," Sam said.

"Me, too," Tucker agreed.

"Take offense all you want," was Danny's laugh-bitten reply. "You guys are just gonna suck face all night, anyway. So I'm going to the carnival, fake or not."

* * *

><p>"Oh, this is delicious! He's walking right into it!"<p>

"You mean to tell me he fell for that?" Walker's lip twitched. Freakshow continued to boast about his handiwork—the free carnival ticket that he'd deposited on the Fenton doorstep—until the jailer grew bored of it. "Not one idiot in the Ghost Zone can get the dang boy, but a fake ticket does the trick?"

"Pardon _you_, but I think it was a marvelous idea. Much better than anything some _ghost _could ever think of. Brainless fools, the lot of them."

"You're treadin' a mighty thin line there, partner."

"Am I?" Freakshow questioned in mock-innocence.

"Careful you don't wear outlive your usefulness."

"Some ghosts are just so touchy."

Without dignifying that with a response, Walker peered back at the halfa from where he and the carnival leader were hidden, watching as their target bid his friends goodbye.

"He may be a little at loss for common sense, but if he ain't the most incredible specimen."

"Oo_oooh_, woof, woof."

"You know what I mean." A threatening glare was tossed in the other's direction before it faded into a smirk. "Then again, you're not wrong. He has grown into a mighty fine adult."

Freakshow looked, for the life of him, like he'd just heard the most startling news one could hear. "You're not serious."

"I reckon I am."

"You have some sort of soft spot for him?"

"Not quite."

At this, Freakshow's surprise dimmed. A glimmer of malice crept into his tone, giving an eerie chill to his otherwise cheerful grin. "He is fit to be served on a platter, I do say. But be careful, warden. If you don't do my plot justice, I just may snatch him before you can."

A cackle arose from Freakshow's lips, punctuated by a sharp inhalation as he took a bow. "My work is finished, and in mere hours your hunger will be abated. Perhaps, then, you should fulfill your half of the bargain."

"You will go when I say you can go."

"No need to be rude, dollface. Why, you must be impatient."

"I've suffered through four years of failure to get my hands on him. I ain't about to wait one more day."

* * *

><p>It was nine o'clock sharp when Danny left his house. Since his friends were occupied with their own affairs, he made his way to the fairgrounds alone, hunched forward against the chilly wind. Dead leaves stirred around his feet while he walked, almost as though they were leading him to his destination.<p>

He knew the carnival was fake. He also suspected that Sam knew he knew. But a hero's duty is never done, and though he was missing out on movie night, he knew that this was the more mature decision. Obviously something weird was about to happen in the town, and he had no intention of letting it get out of hand. Better to fall for the trick and get things over with easily. He was honestly offended that this ploy to catch him was so mediocre.

With his hood up and his hands in his pockets, he crossed the grounds in silence, save the occasional crunch of a leaf.

Ahead of him, a streetlight blew out with a sharp crack, and he jumped into position, going ghost and hovering just above the ground, only to be met with a long stretch of silence and a dawning realization that the light's demise had nothing to do with paranormal activity. He sighed and lowered himself again.

Everything around him was so eerily quiet, and the cold made the space feel so large and open—which it was, but this was different… A strange feeling crept up his spine, like he was in the perfect location to be spotted by wandering eyes.

He pursed his lips. "Listen, whoever's out there, I hope you know that this is really, really lame. I mean, a fake ticket? Oldest trick in the—"

The lamp above him suddenly broke as well, showering him with hot glass. He bit back a curse before mumbling, "…book…" and shaking out his hair. When yet another lamp in the distance died, he clenched his fists. "Just come out already!" All he received in response was his own voice echoing back.

Above him, the sky was a muddy brick color, odd for this time of night, he noted. Though he wasn't one to ascribe harbinger status to the environment, he couldn't help but feel that this set up was…well, spooky.

The wind didn't so much blow now as waver along in a choked wisp. The leaves no longer rustled. Danny was instantly aware that he could hear himself breathing. _In…out…in…out…in…_

"I've got you now," a voice behind him grumbled, the shock of which punched his last inhalation from his lungs. He spun on his heel and staggered when he found his personal bubble full of Walker's chest, directly at Danny's eye level. His sudden loss of oxygen and balance knocked him backward, and he landed on his elbows in the glittering mess of glass beneath him.

"_Shit_," he hissed, shooting to a sitting position.

Walker squatted down and rested his wrists on his knees. "That language is a little grown-up for you, boy."

"In case you're blind, I'm _not _a little boy anymore." Danny pulled a shard of glass from his skin and leveled a cold stare at the other.

"Trust me, I am _very_ aware of that there fact."

Something about the tone of Walker's voice made the hairs on Danny's arms stand on end. "What is that supposed to mean?" He asked, leaning back while the warden's white face steadily drew nearer.

"It means whatever you want it to mean, darlin'." A slow grin split the bottom portion of Walker's face.

The halfa's brain screeched to a halt at the same instant his breath froze in his throat. "Why am I here?"

The villain got to his feet and snapped his fingers. The merry-go-round lit up out of nowhere, prompting cheery music to begin spilling from its speakers. The little painted horses bobbed up and down, charging along without riders. The Ferris wheel was set into motion as well, then the bumper car rink, then the roller coasters and mini games. All around them, bit by bit, each attraction lit up and began producing its own lively sounds meant for beckoning potential customers to the machines.

Near where the two of them stood, a giant clown face burst into view in a brilliantly colorful display, its painted pupils boring holes into them and its gaping mouth an invitation to the Fun House that lie within.

"To answer your question," Walker drawled, "we're gonna play ourselves a game."

Danny slowly rose from the ground and began hovering in the midst of lights and sound, sweeping his gaze over the glowing fairgrounds. Everything looked so out of place, smothered beneath such a filthy-looking sky. He finally turned his attention back to his enemy. "What're you getting at?"

"If you can take me down, I'll leave, plain 'n' simple."

"What's your prize if you win?" For some reason, the halfa felt a thrill surge through him at Walker's answering laugh, low and rumbling. This was certainly not the same old fight from when he was younger… It appeared there was more to it now.

"Are you admitting defeat already?"

"Not a chance," Danny breathed before darting away in a stripe of green light.

Walker clicked his tongue. "Hook, line, and sinker." He was quick to follow the other, and the two of them lit up the sky with the black and white flashes of their movements—two pairs of toxic green eyes remained locked through Walker's hard punches and Danny's ducks, through the latter's impressive kicks and the former's effortless dodges.

The ghost among them cracked his knuckles. "I'm waitin'."

A growl rippled through Danny's throat as he lunged through the air, catching nothing and instead landing hard in the dirt on his knees and already-bloodied elbows.

"That's mighty sad. I thought your skill would've improved with age."

Danny wasted no time leaping back off the ground. "And I thought your taunting would've improved, but it looks like I was wrong."

"Clever, as always. In many ways you're the same as I remember you."

"Lemme guess: But in many ways I'm not?" It was hard to tell if he was subconsciously rubbing this in Walker's face or not. Another chill of excitement traced a path down his spine.

"I think you're catchin' on." With that, a strong fist connected with Danny's jaw, and he retaliated with a knee to the other's abdomen.

"You have a funny way of showing affection," he grated out past aching teeth. He reached up to touch the spot where he knew a bruise would soon be blossoming, only to have his wrist secured and slammed above his head into the lamppost. There'd be a bruise there too, then.

"I assure you," Walker began, voice deep and smooth and…actually rather tempting. Danny did his best to pretend he hadn't just thought that. "I have nothing in the way of affection for you."

His other wrist was clamped on top of the first and held to the cold green metal of the post. "No romantic dinner, huh?" He didn't bother giving time for a response before bringing his legs up and rocketing them into Walker's chest, causing him to stumble backward and lose his grip on his adversary.

Danny flew toward the Fun House clown's mouth with a curious shortness of breath and a knotted ball of thoughts. The air rushing past him stung his heated face like pinpricks, yet he didn't slow down.

Inside the hollow head, he was met with two halls—one bathed in a bright fluorescent light, the other in a dim purple. He allowed his feet to touch the ground and then shot through the brightly-lit one, concentrating on the heavy thumping of his soles rather than the thumping in his chest. The sprint brought him to a room filled with floor-to-ceiling mirrors, each of them tossing his own bewildered face back at him, along with filthy, scraped-up elbows and knees, dark bruises on his jaw and wrists, and a wind-blown mess of white hair. The glowing eyes that stared back at him had pupils that were much too large.

He changed back to survey the damage in his human form—this, frankly, looked much worse, as the green streaks of blood became red and the black bruises turned violet.

"Someone's a little banged up, hmm?"

He froze up for a mere second before he saw Freakshow's face come into view on the mirrors' reflections and whirled around to face him. "I should've known you had something to do with this ridiculous set-up."

"If you knew it was a trap, then why did you fall for it?" A wicked smile graced his lips.

Danny's eyes narrowed. "I came to take out the trash."

"And you look like you did a _marvelous_ job with that." When Freakshow realized that the halfa had no rebuttal, he added, "You know, the warden has been looking everywhere for you. I think he wants to add you to his collection!" This was punctuated with a single gleeful laugh—a drawn-out, high-pitched "_Ahhhh!_"

"Yeah, well he's not gonna get me, and neither are you!" Danny grabbed Freakshow by the shirt and threw a punch, eliciting a sharp cry in response. After a split-second of rubbing his face, the ringleader curled his bony fingers around Danny's neck and squeezed.

"Now, play nice, sugar!"

Danny shot him a smirk and utilized his ghost form to easy slip out of the other's grasp. "Catch me, then. _If _you can… I mean, you're only human_._"

Freakshow's eyes flashed dangerously. He snapped his scepter to the right, smashing the mirror it came in contact with. "How _dare _you! You—you brat!"

"I think eighteen is a little old to be called a 'brat,'" was the airy reply.

"Hah! Once a troublemaker always a troublemaker!"

That was the instant that Walker stepped in, with slow and deliberate steps. "Ain't that the truth," he said as he approached the black-haired male. "You've been the biggest pain in my neck for years, punk. But I finally got you."

Freakshow stepped back as though Walker's presence alone was big enough to crowd him.

"You upheld your end of the bargain, Clown. You're free to go."

The ringleader grinned poisonously. "I'd wish you good luck, Phantom, but it seems to me that you've already got it!" With that and a cackle, Freakshow fled, leaving his victim and his savior alone together in the jaws of his grandiose trap.

"What kind of jailer lets a criminal go?" Danny asked with narrowed, watchful eyes.

Walker continued in his approach, backing Danny farther and farther into the maze. He gave his answer in an unconcerned tone. "The human world means nothing to me. That's why I'm bringing my prize back to my world," he trapped the halfa against a mirror and leaned in close, "where you belong."

The reflection of their position—with Walker's hands on either side of Danny's head and their faces centimeters apart—was copied onto every surface of the room, a glaring testament to the situation they were in. Danny, though ruffled, didn't exactly mind; after all, he could certainly take down an out-of-practice warden in a physical fight. But the overwhelming desire for something different was making the game seem massively appealing to lose.

Walker suddenly gripped him hard by the hips. "You give up yet?"

He had such an exciting prospect before him, and his thoughts warred. What would his friends think? When would he get a chance like this again? He was used to strange happenings, but this was unreal.

"I think you would do well to answer me before I teach you a lesson." A hand moved up to his throat and tightened slightly.

Danny felt like his answer was rather ridiculous, but he couldn't help himself. "What sort of lesson are we talking about?"

Those were apparently the magic words, because right then Walker moved the hand that had been on Danny's throat to the back of his neck and jerked him into a rough kiss.

He'd heard the phrase "their mouths collided" before, but never had he imagined how literal that was. This wasn't soft and sweet, but the kind of frantic contact that demanded tongue and teeth and ownership of the other's very breath. Walker's mouth was freezing and smooth, dominating the warm, chapped lips with which they contrasted. It was like Danny was breathing in the cold of his ghost sense, suffocated by snowy air and a cold tongue claiming his voice.

Past the ghostly chill he was enveloped in, he felt the other's fingers digging into his neck and side, marking him with more evidence of possession. He felt his skin ache dully but felt oddly satisfied with the thought of the bruises that would form.

When the warden pulled away, the world around Danny went from a flurry of white to the room of mirrors they occupied. He didn't realize he was panting and red-faced until he saw the multiples of his reflection again, pressed against the surface behind him like he depended on the structure to even stay on his feet.

The sound returned to his ears slowly, replacing the buzzing of his blood rushing in his head. "What kind of a lesson is that?" he breathed.

Walker clicked his tongue and adjusted one of his gloves. "A lesson I reckon you'll have to learn later, brat. Your friends are here."

For some reason that didn't compute in Danny's brain. "…Huh?" he said intelligently.

Ignoring that, the warden said, "I'll be seeing you again, ghost boy."

Danny blinked rapidly as he regained his thinking ability. "I— Hey, I'm counting on it."

Walker's disappearance came quicker than Danny expected, but not a moment too soon, because, right on cue, Tucker's voice called from somewhere close. "D, you in here?"

Though she spoke in a low voice, he could hear Sam say, "We should've come with him in the first place."

"I'm in here, guys!" he called once he was sure his voice wouldn't betray him.

The sound of footsteps picked up, and in moments the two of them spilled into the room where Danny was.

Sam's ring-riddled eyebrows shot up immediately. "Oh my god."

"What happened to you, man?" Tucker asked. "Was there a ghost problem?"

"Uhh, 'ghost,' yes. 'Problem'…not quite."

"Explain?" Sam asked.

Danny put his hands in his pockets and began leading his friends out of the Fun House. "Don't worry, I handled it."

"I dunno," Tucker said skeptically, "looks like whatever it was handled _you_." This was answered this with a noncommittal chuckle on Danny's part.

As the trio left the fairgrounds, a telling wisp of cold air escaped the halfa's lips, striking him with a pleasant thrill and bringing a bashful smile to his face.

Sam caught it and shot him another inquiry. "What's that look all about?"

"Oh, nothing," he answered. "Nothing at all."


End file.
